Tension
by anonymouslyme8
Summary: Rose needs a little bit of R&R between planets, but she is battling a tension that a nap cannot take away. Can the Doctor help her with her predicament? Unabashed PWP smut. Nine/Rose


Title: **Tension**  
>Category: TV Shows » Doctor Who<br>Author: FanfictionCuresWritersBlock  
>Language: English, Rating: Rated: M<br>Genre: Romance/General  
>Published: 12-08-11, Updated: 12-08-11<br>Chapters: 1, Words: 2,560

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

There was so much tension in her body. She did her best to ignore it, to hold it back, but she honestly didn't see the point now that she was alone. Ugh. When had it gotten so hot on the TARDIS? It felt like her clothes were sticking to her, and she hated that feeling.

Relishing in the feeling, she peeled off her jumper and sweats, with the innocent intention of replacing them with a tank and shorts. But it felt so good standing there wearing nothing but her underwear. She sighed contentedly and stretched out on the bed instead, for some good old-fashioned meditation. Ugh.

Her breasts still felt trapped and sticky in her bra, so she unclasped it and tossed it on the floor. And, for good measure, used the elastic on her panties to shoot them across the room. She smiled and closed her eyes. So freeing, laying on top of her covers in nothing but her skin, feeling the wonderfully refreshing air brush across skin that felt suffocated.

But there was still a tense knot in her gut, the kind not remedied by plain R&R. She frowned slightly. He was so attractive, and she spent all day pretending that that grin didn't give a shock straight from her heart to her gut to settle, burning, between her legs. With the thought, that grin flashed through her mind and butterflies filled her stomach again.

Her right hand absently traced down her side, over her breast, across her stomach, to rest lazily on her inner thigh. She imagined the only way to wipe his signature smirk of his face was to prevent it from forming. She thought of one way in particular she could get in on that: by busying his mouth with hers.

Her core temperature was rising. She really shouldn't think about real people when she was horny, but suddenly she couldn't think of another face with which to replace his, another anonymous man to complete her fantasy. There was no one else.

So she gave in and let him blanket her fantasy analogue in kisses, let him pull her into his arms and hold her like he would never let go.

Her index finger slipped through the hair and parted her labia. She stroked her clit tentatively, seeing if her body was enjoying itself as much as her mind was. Warmth radiated from it, and as she lightly circled it with her pad she realized how easy it was going to be to get herself off if she continued this train of thought.

And dear lord she needed to get off.

So she lay back, sinking deeper into the mattress, and let her mind continue along its current path.

After a minute or two, when she was really starting to enjoy herself, there was a soft knock on her door.

"Rose?" It was him. She didn't feel particularly embarrassed, though she knew she should. Instead, she calmly stopped moving.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"I know what you're doing in there." It was a strange thing for him to say, and a strange tone he said it in. Husky, definitely.

"What?"

"I said I know what you're doing. It's not hard to guess."

She was silent, completely surprised by him. It seemed unlike him to play these kinds of games, and he had certainly never sounded husky before.

"I know that if I open this door, I'll find you flushed and sweaty, your pretty fingers hidden in your prettier crotch."

She didn't know where this was going, didn't know what to say. She would have loved to invite him in, ask him to help her—that's what she really wanted—but she couldn't get up the nerve. No, that wasn't it. She wanted him to be in charge, liked the idea of him "forcing" his way in to see her in a compromising position. Oh yes.

"I'm going to open this door, Rose. Will I find you, your fingers holding your pink lips open like the petals of your namesake?"

Oh yes. Open the door. She wanted him to see her, wanted to see what he would do.

The knob began to turn.

Her breath caught in her throat. She was sitting up on her elbows waiting for him, and she could see the tight peaks of her nipples in her peripheral vision.

Everything about this was so sensual, she could barely stand it.

The door opened, and he stepped in to close it behind him. Their eyes met, and she knew she didn't look startled. Why should she? He had given her plenty of warning. She had had more than enough time to pretend to be asleep or put on a robe or tell him to bugger off. But she hadn't. Instead, she met his eyes, knowing they showed thrill instead of shame, even as her right hand was still pressed exactly where he had predicted to find it.

"Ooh, Rose. Are you a naughty girl?"

Yes, yes. Why was this turning her on so much? She was frozen, afraid that if she moved this vision would fade away and she would be left alone again. Like always.

He leaned over her, putting one of his knees between her legs on the bed. He leaned close to her, like he was about to kiss her. She could smell him, and it was a glorious smell. She let her lungs fill with it and vowed to never forget how unusual and how familiar it smelled at once.

He leaned toward her, brushed his lips over her ear, before whispering: "What were you thinking about?"

It was easier to be confident when the man you wanted so clearly wanted you too. "You."

"Really? Me? Then you won't mind if I do this." He pushed her hand out of the way and replaced it with his left one. She shuddered. There was something so different about the way someone else's fingers felt on her. It was the thrill of not knowing exactly what they were going to do, she imagined, and she loved it. His fingers were slightly rough, but the friction was more than welcome.

A whimper and a sigh merged in her throat before escaping. He grinned for just a moment before covering her mouth with his. He devoured her hungrily, and she kissed back warmly, lazily. He pressed against her for leverage, wrapping his free arm around her in a controlling embrace.

"Have you ever been kissed like that before?" he asked, as he pulled away to let her breathe. Here she was panting, her lips swollen from the touches of his, and he wasn't even out of breath.

"Never," she said, breathlessly but not weakly, wanting more.

He shifted her on the bed so he could more fully join her. Suddenly she could feel his erection pressing against her leg. "Do you know how long it's been since I've done this?"

"Since before the war, I imagine."

"Yes. Do you know what that makes me?"

"Very horny, apparently," she said cheekily, her tongue appearing between her teeth.

"Yes," he said with a smirk. "But you know what else. I can see it in your eyes. And you like it."

"It makes you dangerous," she replied.

"Yes."

"Fuck me."

He didn't argue. He kissed her hungrily again, his finger beginning to stroke circles between her legs. She spread them farther to encourage him. She was still propped up on one elbow, but the other arm had wrapped around his neck, her hand pressing his lips onto hers. He moved down her neck slowly, lavishing kisses as he went, until he took one of her pink nipples into his mouth. It seemed like forever since she had felt the warmth of a mouth on her breasts, but she hadn't realized how much she missed it until now.

"You're very aroused."

She pouted, imagining her swollen lips made the expression much more dramatic. "I would've come by now if you hadn't've interrupted."

"Hmmm. Well let's see if I can make up for that." He began kissing her again, this time letting his weight come down to rest halfway on her. The stitches of his jumper rubbed against her breasts in a way that was simply fantastic. He pulled away, and she made to complain, but he simply shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside before returning.

She knew he was dominating her on purpose, keeping the upper hand by keeping all his clothes on while she lay stark naked beneath him. She didn't mind. Quite the opposite, it turned her on to know he was so assertive. It made it seem like he wanted her all the more.

She made noises, little oohs and ahs, as he touched her. He liked it; she could see it in his eyes. He liked her little innocent but so sexual attitude, how her sounds were quiet as if she was embarrassed to be making them, but she couldn't quite hold them back just the same.

"Is it hot in here?" he asked casually when he pulled away again, stripping off his jumper and tossing it next to his jacket.

"Yes," she gasped as his right hand slide lightly over her inner thigh before returning to rub her clit, more furiously this time.

He was leaning into his kisses, and she felt his erection sliding back and forth over her leg. He was making it last, for both of them, and she simultaneously appreciated it and wanted to beg him for mercy, for sweet release.

Finally she could stand it no longer. "Isn't that uncomfortable?" she teased as her fingers popped the button of his jeans.

He caught her hands with his and looked into her eyes. "Let me."

He withdrew from her, pulling back into a kneeling position. His body had fit with hers so fully that she felt something had gone missing. He slid the zipper down slowly, not making eye contact with her, and freed his erection. He shut his eyes and stroked it twice before standing to shed the remainder of his clothes. He returned to her, wrapping both arms around her. She desperately wanted to touch his erection, to feel its girth and length with her hands, but he was somehow fending her off through his kisses.

"What do you want?" he asked breathlessly, pulling out of kisses to look at her with blackened eyes.

"You," she said, trying to grab for him once again. He shifted easily out of her reach, his eyes sparkling slightly.

"What about me?"

She glared at him, with no effect. "I want to touch you."

He pretended to consider it for a moment before allowing her to reach him. Her soft hands closed around him and she saw his eyes roll back into his head as his eyes closed. She stroked him lightly, teasingly, testing the feel of him. He was thick, but not intimidatingly so; he was long, longer than average certainly, but once again it was nothing disproportionate. Certainly he was bigger than any she had had before, but he fit so nicely in her hands, like he fit so nicely against her.

"That's enough," he said after a moment, and it was not so much a command as a statement, or warning. If she wanted him to last, she should stop now.

He leaned over her again, nipping her neck as he returned his right hand to between her legs. She suddenly sympathized with the Doctor. If he continued much longer, she was going without him.

"Doctor," she whimpered, trying to mimic his tone and not succeeding as gracefully as she would have liked.

He ignored her, sucking gently on a protrusion of her collarbone.

"Doctor," she said again, frantically. But it was too late. "Oh. Doctor."

He slipped his free hand around her waist as she arched her back into him, moving her hips against his hand. He supported her as it washed over her, warmth flooding her extremities. She could feel her face flushing, and when she finally had come down enough to look at him, the desire on his face was incredible.

The conscious use of her muscles was returning to her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, shifting to open herself more to him.

"Rose," he said wonderingly, as if he couldn't believe it was really happening.

She smirked at him, and then he slowly began to penetrate her. She gasped as he pushed into her. He was definitely bigger than she was used to, but not so big that the stretch was painful. She could barely breathe, her nerves were firing too quickly for her to process it, and when he had filled her, he stopped, quivering, sweat covering his body.

He slowly pulled back, and she felt muscles relax that she didn't realize she had tensed. This time, as he pushed in again, a deep groan ripped from her throat. His angle of movement rubbed his erection against her clit as he moved.

"Doctor," she gasped when she was filled again, and he began to move faster.

She knew she had just come, but dear god she was going to come again if he kept this up. And he had no intention of stopping. The tension in his body make his muscles stand out beneath his skin, and he was a picture of sex and masculinity. His fingernails grazed her skin as he clenched his hands into fists, and she was moaning his name in rhythm with his quickening thrusts.

"Rose," he groaned, and she realized how much effort it had taken him to last this long. His thrusts were suddenly uneven, and his pubic bone pressed hard into her clit.

"Oh, yes! Doctor! Yes!" she gasped. Waves of pleasure crashed into her, and her inner muscles were grabbing him, holding him there.

"Rose," he moaned, and joined her. He thrust into her harder and faster until spent, and then he stopped, gently pulling himself out of her. She sighed contentedly, and he lowered himself shakily to kiss her on the forehead before rolling to the side. She snuggled into him, and he cradled her in his arms.

"I forgive you," she said softly after a minute or two.

He chuckled slightly and kissed the top of her head. She threw her arm over his chest and fell asleep listening to the slowing cadence of his hearts.


End file.
